


And The Water Caught Fire

by liggytheauthoress



Series: Melt the Elements 'Verse [3]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liggytheauthoress/pseuds/liggytheauthoress
Summary: "He isn’t quite sure what to make of Faraday when the man comes riding up with the others. Vasquez won’t lie, he catches the waterbender’s eye almost immediately. There’s something about the way he carries himself that subtly commands Vasquez’s attention, although he’s not quite sure why.""With Fervent Heat" from Vasquez's POV, featuring Vas backstory and a truly shameless amount of sap.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have resigned myself to the fact that this series is going to continue to spiral out of control - this was supposed to be just a few scenes from With Fervent Heat and then, like its predecessor, it mutated. The author is no longer in control, people. Be very afraid.
> 
> Title taken from the quote, "The sky broke like an egg into full sunset and the water caught fire."
> 
> Dedicated, as always, to my best friend/beta reader/filthy enabler dutchydoescoke.

When Vasquez is ten, he loses everything.

He’s jolted from sleep by his mother shaking him, frantically telling him to get up, and as he comes back to full awareness he realizes he can hear the sounds of screaming and yelling coming from outside. He doesn’t even have time to ask what’s going on before Mamá is pulling him and his brother out of bed, shoving them towards the door.

Outside, it seems like the whole world is on fire. Vasquez tries to pull away, back into the house, but Mamá arcs out her arm and sends out a stream of water that gives them enough room to get through the flames. The light and the smoke make it difficult to see, but Vasquez can make out enough to know that half the village looks like it’s on fire. People are running around and screaming and there are men shouting on horseback, and he just wants to go back and hide under the covers until everything stops.

Mamá drags him and Alejandro by the arms to the fountain at the center of the village square, where a few other children are already huddled together, looking terrified. Kneeling down, she looks Vasquez and his brother in the eye and tells them, “I have to help the others. Stay here by the water. Use your bending if you have to.”

Then she’s gone, disappearing into the chaos, and Vasquez is left to cling to Alejandro like a lifeline.

At one point he sees Mamá rushing into the church, and all he can think is that there’s not enough water in there, she needs help, they should go to her.

Alejandro apparently has the same thought, because he grabs his shoulders and says, “I’m going to help Mamá, Eduardo. You stay.”

Vasquez wants to insist that he’s can help too, he’s old enough, but Alejandro is his older brother and Vasquez has always been taught to respect his elders, so he just nods.

And then he watches his brother vanish into the church as well.

They don’t come out.

He waits and waits, but they don’t come out, and he sees the roof of the church start to sag inward, the flames eating away at the structure, and he panics.

There are two firebenders in their village. They can help. They _have_ to help.

Vasquez tears away from the fountain, gaze darting from left to right as he tries to find the firebenders in the confusion. They’re standing at the edge of the village, watching the flames, and he practically hurls himself at them. “The church!” he gasps, grabbing at one of the men’s hands. “Please, you have to put out the fire in the church!”

The man shoves him off like he’s swatting a fly, but Vasquez is persistent, grabbing on again. “ _Please!_ ”

“Take your hands off me, boy,” the man spits, this time shoving him away with enough force to send him to the ground. “You’re a waterbender, aren’t you? _You_ go put out the fire.”

And they just...walk away.

Vasquez watches them go, slackjawed, because they can’t just refuse to help like that, Mamá says benders are supposed to use their bending to help people, how can they just... _leave?_

A cracking sound comes from behind him, and he turns around just in time to see the roof of the church collapse into a pile of blazing timber.

* * *

He learns a valuable lesson that night.

Never trust a firebender.

* * *

Vasquez leaves the village when he turns sixteen, the memories too painful for him to stand any longer. He has nowhere to go and no destination in mind, and that suits his purposes just fine. He enjoys being on the move, going wherever the road takes him - even if he does fall prey to bouts of loneliness sometimes.

He comes across a firebender, every now and again. At first he avoids them, knowing how powerful they are, but as he gets older, he starts wanting to fight them. The two firebenders from his village are long gone, but every one he meets reminds him of them. The same arrogance, the same sefishness, the same cruelty.

One night he sees a group of them taunting young girl by trapping her in place with their flames, sending fireballs at her feet whenever she tries to move, and laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

The only reason he doesn’t fight them is because there are too many.

But he wants to. Oh, how he wants to.

A few days later, he overhears an old man in the bar saying, “The only good firebender is a dead firebender.”

Vasquez has never agreed with anyone more.

* * *

“Maybe he had it coming,” is what he tells the man in the cabin, the one holding up the warrant with Vasquez’s face on it. And he’s not lying - the ranger did. Vasquez had seen the bastard catch a small boy in the act of trying to steal his watch and send a burst of fire into the kid’s face.

Vasquez would jump at the chance to shoot him again.

He doesn’t say any of that to this man. Bounty hunters rarely care about motives, and even if they did, this one makes it clear very quickly that the reward isn’t what he’s after.

“After our business is concluded, what then?” he asks with a defiant jut of his chin.

“There’ll still be a lot of men after your hide.”

“And that should give me comfort?”

“Should. I won’t be one of ’em.”

There’s something about the way the  man says it, the earnest look on his face, that makes Vasquez pause. The waterbender isn’t the type to trust easily - he wouldn’t still be alive if he was - but every now and then, he finds himself crossing paths with someone his gut just tells him is completely on the level.

This man, whoever he is, is one of those people.

“You’re _loco_ , my friend,” Vasquez says as he puts his gun away.

The man gives a small smile. “ _Sí_.”

* * *

He isn’t quite sure what to make of Faraday when the man comes riding up with the others. Vasquez won’t lie, he catches the waterbender’s eye almost immediately. There’s something about the way he carries himself that subtly commands Vasquez’s attention, although he’s not quite sure why.

Even the comment of, “Oh, good, we got a Mexican,” doesn’t annoy him as much as it normally would. Vasquez is no stranger to being mocked by white men, but somehow, when Faraday does it, it loses a lot of its sting. His tone suggests friendly ribbing, not flat out scorn.

Sam introduces Vasquez to the others, mentioning his bending, and Faraday looks amused. “Well that’s a stroke of luck. If we can make it rain hard enough on Bogue maybe he’ll catch his death of cold and go home.”

Vasquez hears the not-quite-challenge in Faraday’s voice and resists the urge to grin. He looks the man up and down, making a show of sizing him up, and asks, “And what about you, _güero_? Just what are you bringing to this fight, huh?”

He’s not sure what response he’s expecting, but it’s definitely not Faraday shrugging and replying, with a completely serious expression, “ _I_ am the world’s greatest lover.”

Vasquez can’t help it. He laughs. For some inexplicable reason, Faraday has struck a chord with him, right away, and he finds himself eager to get to know the man better.

He can’t resist issuing one more challenge - and if it comes out a little more suggestively than it should, he doesn’t regret it.

“I hope your hands are as good with those guns as they are with other things, then.”

Faraday just smirks. “If you need a demonstration, let me know.”

And maybe it’s just because he’s been on the run for so long, but Vasquez can’t say he hates that idea.

* * *

“Shame we don’t have a firebender for this.”

It’s obvious from the way Sam chuckles after saying it that he’s joking, and Billy and Goodnight both give amused huffs, but to Vasquez it’s the farthest thing from funny. He spits at the ground, imagining it’s the face of the ranger he shot. “ _Maldito maestros fuego_ ,” he growls. “They wouldn’t life a finger to help someone.”

Teddy glances between him and Sam questioningly. “The only ones I’ve ever seen work for Bogue. They all really as bad as that?”

“As far as I’m concerned, they are.” For just a moment, it’s like he’s back there, that night when he was ten years old, pleading with the men to save the lives of his family and watching them just walk away like it was nothing, like they didn’t even care his mother and brother were burning to death.

He doesn’t share this part of his life with many people, but he feels the situation warrants it. “When I was a boy, bandits came to my village and set fire to half the houses. There were two firebenders in the town and they did _nothing_ to help.”

He leaves out his mother and brother.

Some things are too painful to share.

“The only good firebender is a dead one,” he finishes, glaring at the campfire like it’s personally responsible.

There’s a long pause before Goodnight speaks up. “It seems a bit harsh to judge the character of many based on the actions of a few.” The sharpshooter casts a solemn look around the group. “‘Prejudices are the chains forged by ignorance to keep men apart.’”

Vasquez turns his glare to Goodnight, because this isn’t something he’s ignorant about, he knows firsthand what firebenders are like. He doesn’t meet many sympathizers but the ones he does meet are usually the sheltered, idealistic type, so he’s surprised to hear it coming from Goodnight Robicheaux, of all people.

He’s searching for something to say in return when Faraday’s voice comes from where he’s perched on a boulder. “Nah, Vasquez is right. Firebenders are damn selfish bastards.” He looks uncharacteristically grim, and Vasquez isn’t sure he likes that expression on him. “Once knew a man who straight up called them monsters, and let me tell you, he wasn’t far off.”

Vasquez can’t help casting him a grateful look, because he’s met people who don’t like firebenders, but he rarely meets someone who truly understands how he feels about them, who recognizes them for what they are. He wonders what happened in Faraday’s past to make him so bitter, but he knows it’s not his place to ask.

He’s more than willing to lend a sympathetic ear if Faraday ever wants to share with someone, though.

* * *

It’s not entirely intentional when he ends up riding beside Faraday the next day, but Vasquez can’t truthfully say it’s entirely accidental, either. He’d already felt a tenuous connection to the man when they met, and after last night, that connection feels even stronger.

He won’t bring it up, though. Not unless Faraday wants to talk about it.

He sees Faraday glance over his shoulder (and all right, maybe that’s because Vasquez was watching him out of the corner of his eye). “If I were Red, I don’t think I’d be ridin’ with my back to Horne like that.”

Vasquez snorts in amusement. “You expecting dissension of the ranks so soon, _güero_?” He’s not sure when that became his nickname for Faraday, but the other man doesn’t seem to mind it.

“No, but I don’t particularly expect everyone to get along thick as thieves, either.”

Neither does Vasquez, to be honest, but he _does_ want to get along with Faraday. “Even if the thieves are united under a single cause?” He grins at him and asks, “You never heard the expression ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’”

It occurs to him that he probably couldn’t be any less subtle than he’s being right now, but he doesn’t care. Vasquez stopped caring about what other people thought of him a long time ago, and he’s not sure how much time he has to build the foundation of a friendship with any of these men, so he’d rather be blatant about it now then waste time he might not have later.

Faraday grins back, and something loosens in Vasquez’s chest. “Let’s just hope they’ve heard that expression too.”

* * *

He wishes Rose Creek was situated closer to the river, but the rain barrels Teddy pointed out are more than enough, and while the firebenders in Bogue’s employ might be enough to scare the townspeople into submission, they’re hardly a challenge for an experienced waterbender.

Especially one with a score to settle.

When he and Faraday end up back to back, it’s fantastic. Vasquez has _never_ trusted anyone to watch his back, in a fight or out of one, not ever. It’s always been just him and he’s used to that. But this…He can’t explain it - he’s only known Faraday a few days, but in that moment he trusts the man with his life completely.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of the firebenders’ head’s snap back with the force of Faraday’s bullet, and he grins, wild and uninhibited.

Even after they split apart again, he feels acutely aware of where Faraday is the entire time, like there’s an invisible tether there. It’s not something Vasquez has ever felt with someone before, and he thinks he likes it.

After the fight, when Faraday changes his kill count from six to seven, Vasquez looks at him in mild exasperation, scoffing a little, but there’s no malice behind it, just like he knows there’s no malice in Faraday’s reply of, “You wanna try and tie it up? Huh, _chingado?_ ”

He can’t tell if Faraday deliberately meant for it to sound like a proposition, but he doesn’t really care. “Say when, _güero_.” He keeps his face serious, the two of them looking at each other like they’re about to draw on one another, and resists the urge to laugh when he sees the corner of Faraday’s mouth twitch.

* * *

Vasquez can’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable in the midst of this many people. He’s used to eating alone, hunched over whatever scraps he can get his hands on, but tonight he’s at a table surrounded by laughter and conversation and Faraday’s relentless ribbing.

He wants to know if Faraday felt it too, that connection they seemed to have during the fight, but he can’t exactly just ask. So he settles for countering every one of Faraday’s wisecracks and enjoying the look in Faraday’s eye every time they start at it again.

That night, as he’s passing Faraday in the hall, he can’t resist digging a light elbow into his side. “I guess you’re good with those guns after all,” he remarks.

Faraday gives a playful grin, holding up his hands. “Good with these, too. Offer for a demonstration still stands.”

There’s a moment where Vasquez honest to God almost accepts before he comes to his senses. He rolls his eyes in Faraday’s direction, letting just a little bit of warmth creep into his voice as he says, “Sleep well, _güero._ ”

He forces himself to retreat to his room before his sense of control slips any more than it already has. He has no idea why Faraday has this effect on him, he just knows that it’s been a long time since he’s met someone he’s been able to trust like this, and he knows their time here in Rose Creek is limited, even if they all survive.

Maybe he’s being pathetic, but hell, if he’s going to die in a week, he wants to do it with at least one friend by his side.

And if something more than that develops between them before that happens, he can’t say he’ll object.

* * *

Sam drags them headfirst into the planning the next day. Vasquez has always relied more on his gut instincts and thinking on his feet, rather than strategies, but he admires the way Sam’s mind works.

He also notices that, despite the personality he presents to the world, Faraday is not as unintelligent as he seems. The man questions Sam a lot, but in a way that makes it clear he’s just trying to ensure they’re covering every option, every possibility (or at least as many as they can cover, at any rate). It’s impressive, in a way.

Even more impressive is the way Faraday manages to do it without once sounding like he’s taking it seriously.

“Won’t have to go too far to pray for forgiveness,” Faraday quips when Sam takes them to do a once-over of the burned out church.

Vasquez latches onto the levity, because this building is bringing back too many memories and any distraction is welcome. Particularly this one. “But there is no forgiveness for men like you, _güero_ ,” he chides, knowing Faraday will know better than to take offense.

“Don’t call me _güero_.” Faraday sounds like he’s trying to give off the impression that he’s annoyed, but it’s not exactly convincing. “What’s _güero_ mean, anyway? Handsome? Debonair?”

“Yeah, something like that,” is what Vasquez answers, and in this case it’s not entirely a lie.

They exchange a private, playful look as they both chuckle, and okay, there is no way Vasquez is interpreting this wrong, this is flat-out flirting.

Sam clears his throat to get their attention, and Vasquez reluctantly returns his focus to the job at hand.

* * *

Once the real preparation starts, Vasquez doesn’t get much opportunity to speak to Faraday during the day. The trenches are an easy job - Horne and Sam take care of them in seconds - but the rest of the town still needs to be fortified, and that part isn’t so easy.

Sam does have him and Faraday set up the dynamite together, and Vasquez probably shouldn’t find Faraday’s fondness for explosives this endearing, but he does. He _does_ wish the other man would be a little less careless, though. “Very smart, smoking, huh?”

He does his best to look irritated when Faraday throws his cigarette at him, stamping it out quickly, just in case. He glances at the whiskey bottle hanging from the side of the shack and arches an eyebrow. “You plan to stop for a drink during the fight, _güero_?” he asks.

Faraday shoots him a grin that makes Vasquez’s pulse pick up just the barest amount. “Just a little trick I saw someone do when I was a kid.”

“You had a peculiar childhood.”

The grin on Faraday’s face shifts to something a little less happy, more somber. “That’s one word for it.”

Before Vasquez can even ask, the grin is back in place, full force, and Faraday is saying, “I do hope Bogue appreciates the welcome we’re gonna give him.”

Vasquez can’t help grinning back.

* * *

They might not get much of a chance to talk during the day, but they spend most evenings in the saloon. Usually they’re joined by the others, or at least Goodnight and Billy, but Vasquez prefers the times where it’s just him and Faraday, drinking and talking and playing cards into the small hours of the morning.

That night, after Billy and Goodnight excuse themselves, Faraday pulls out his deck. “How ‘bout a hand or two?” he asks, the cards moving masterfully between his fingers. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“You think I need you to go easy on me?” Vasquez probably does - he’s never met anyone who can hustle at cards like Faraday - but he’ll never admit that. “I think I take offense at that.”

Faraday huffs. “Just tryin’ to be a gentleman, but if you’re gonna be so ungrateful…”

Vasquez knows it’s a maudlin thing to say even before he says it, but that doesn’t stop him. “ _Güero_ , if you were truly a gentleman, I would not enjoy your company nearly as much.”

He’s not sure what reaction he expects, but it’s definitely not the one he gets. Faraday’s smile falters, just barely, and when he speaks his voice is more brittle than Vasquez has ever heard it. “Well, that makes you the first.”

There’s a tangible shift in the atmosphere as Vasquez realizes the implication of the words and tries to wrap his mind around the idea. Faraday is one of the most outgoing people he’s ever met, able to make even the eternally sullen Billy Rocks laugh. It’s inconceivable that Vasquez is the first person to appreciate that.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

Faraday shrugs, pointedly avoiding Vasquez’s gaze. “I’m a bit of an acquired taste. Just so happens that not too many folks are willing to stick around long enough to acquire it.”

Comforting people has never been Vasquez’s strong point, and he’s always been all right with that, but right now he hates it. There’s a vulnerability about Faraday in this moment that makes Vasquez’s chest constrict - with anger or sadness, he doesn’t know - and he wants to make it go away but he has no idea how.

He nudges Faraday’s ankle beneath the table, getting the other man to finally meet his eyes, and gives him a look that hopefully conveys how much he means what he’s about to say. “If that’s the case, then it’s their misfortunate, not yours, _güero_.”

It’s nothing less than the truth. Vasquez can’t imagine anyone not wanting to get to know the man in front of him, but if those people do exist, he pities them. They have no idea what they missed.

Faraday’s lips quirk up in a small smile, one that Vasquez has never seen on him before, and says quietly, “I will never admit to saying this, but...thanks.” He kicks Vasquez in the shin, adding, “Even if it does mean you have questionable taste in drinking partners.”

Vasquez laughs and kicks back, maybe a little more gently than he normally would, and agrees to a round or two. And if he grouses less than usual when Faraday completely wallops him, he puts it down to the whiskey and not the way the gambler’s eyes glow when he collects his winnings.

* * *

When Red rides back into town to deliver the news the next day, Vasquez doesn’t even have time to seek Faraday out before the man is at his side, bumping their shoulders together. Vasquez isn’t sure when their relationship became this tactile, but he’s not complaining, not by any means.

“Guess we all knew this was comin’,” Faraday mutters, watching Sam trying to calm the townspeople down. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to tie things up tomorrow.”

Vasquez huffs in amusement, digging an elbow into Faraday’s side. “You just concentrate on not getting shot, _cabrón_ ,” he says.

Faraday makes a shocked face while dramatically putting a hand to his chest. “Why, Vas, a person might almost think you cared.”

_That’s because I do_ , is what Vasquez wants to reply, because it’s the truth, he does care, more than he probably should for a man he’s known for so short a time. He thinks back to the conversation he had with the boy in the barn yesterday, about responsibility. “I don’t have the guts to be responsible for anyone but me,” was what he’d told the kid. Somehow, since coming to Rose Creek - since meeting Faraday - that changed. He’s not sure when or how it happened exactly, but it has. At some point, the idea of being a “we” instead of a “he” stopped being terrifying and turned into something Vasquez finds almost enticing.

He doesn’t say any of this out loud. It’s neither the time nor the place, and Faraday is very obviously seeking comfort in their banter right now. Vasquez couldn’t deny him that, even if he wanted to.

“Maybe I just want as many guns on our side as possible,” is what he does say, and when Faraday grins at him, he just grins right back.

In that moment, Vasquez makes a promise to himself.

No matter what happens tomorrow, he’s going to his damnedest to make sure that Joshua Faraday survives.

* * *

Vasquez knows Faraday is in the stables. He’s come across the other man there more than once, standing outside Wild Jack’s stall, smoking or just gazing off at nothing in particular. Something tells the waterbender they could both use a little reassurance right now. Vasquez knows _he_ needs it.

And if he’s being brutally honest, reassurance isn’t all he’s hoping for tonight. He might be dead tomorrow - he has nothing to lose now but time.

And he’s almost certain Faraday feels the same way he does…

He takes a deep breath and goes inside.

Just in time to see Faraday lift his hand to his face and produce a flame from his fingers like he’s been doing it all his life.

In that one, single moment, Vasqez feels the bottom drop out of his world, and he thinks he might be sick, because he can’t be seeing this, he _can’t_.

“ _Qué carajo?_ ” His voice is barely above a whisper - he feels like he might fall apart if he speaks any louder.

Faraday whips around with a panicked look on his face, snuffing out the flame, but Vasquez can still see it, burned into his mind’s eye like the fire that claimed the lives of his family. For a second it’s like he’s back there on that night, pleading with the firebenders to save his mother and brother - only the face sneering down at him this time belongs to Faraday.

“Fuck, Vas…,” Faraday says softly, and Vasquez almost flinches. He can’t process the emotions on Faraday’s face right now, can barely even process his own emotions, because this is _Faraday_ , Faraday can’t be one of _them_. Vasquez _knows_ this man, has fought beside him, trusted him to watch his back.

But he also knows what he just saw.

And now he can’t help but wonder if everything before this moment has been a lie.

The silence in the stable is too much, almost crushing, and Faraday is just standing there staring at him, looking terrified, as though Vasquez is the one to be feared here.

It’s too much.

Vasquez leaves.

* * *

The others think he’s kidding at first, when he tells them. But Sam must see the urgency in his face, because he nods at Vasquez slowly. “You on the level with us?”

“You think I would lie about one of us being a fucking firebender?” Vasquez spits the last word. “He didn’t even deny it.”

There’s low murmuring between the rest of the group, and Billy says, “Faraday, though? He doesn’t seem the type…”

“I know what I saw.” Billy seems to have lost interest in getting drunk, but to Vasquez, drowning himself in alcohol seems like a fantastic idea right now. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the fire at Faraday’s fingertips, on the same hands he’s imagined having on him every night since they met.

He listens to the others talk amongst themselves but doesn’t participate. He has no desire to speak to anyone right now, he just wants to drink until he can’t think straight anymore, but this is something that needs to be addressed.

There’s the sound of footsteps, of the door opening, and Vasquez turns to see Faraday standing there, looking wary and more than a little guilty. He can’t bring himself to meet Faraday’s eyes, can barely make himself look at the other man at all, because it feels like he’s looking at a stranger.

“So,” Faraday says slowly, “I get the feeling you fellas have something on your minds.”

Billy, being Billy, wastes no time on tact. “You’re a firebender.”

Vasquez isn’t sure, but he swears he sees Faraday flinch, just the tiniest bit. “That’s about the gist of it, yeah,” Faraday replies, sounding almost indifferent about it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asks. He hadn’t said much after Vasquez delivered the news, so Vasquez has no idea what’s going on in his head right now. “That first day we met, you said you weren’t a bender. Why?”

“Because it ain’t exactly something I’m proud of.”

“You lied to us,” Vasquez forces out, because Sam might not be angry about this, but he is. He’s angry that Faraday lied, and he’s angry that he let himself get so close to the other man, let himself trust him, when all the time this was who Faraday really was.

“And what good would telling the truth have done?” Faraday is looking at him, but Vasquez refuses to meet his gaze. “Would it have done anything except make things worse?”

“Damn, Faraday, we could have use it. The day we got here, that first fight - if we’d known-”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, don’t act like this is about a missed opportunity. You all aren’t angry because of that, you’re angry because you’ve been living and working and riding with a lousy firebender this whole time and you didn’t even know it.” Faraday scoffs, his tone almost mocking. “You’re angry because a firebender had the nerve to try and act like he was good and decent like the rest of you.”

“That’s not why-”

“You think I don’t know what I am? You think I’m under some kind of delusion that I’m better than all the other guys like me out there?” There’s an unexpected emotion in Faraday’s voice that sounds almost like the vulnerability that was there last night, when he admitted he wasn’t used to being liked, and it catches Vasquez off-guard. “Because I don’t need you people to remind me that I’m a monster, okay? I’ve known that since I was eight years old!”

And that makes Vasquez finally look up. Because he’s never heard a firebender talk like that, not ever. He’s heard them brag and boast, heard them be proud and haughty and arrogant about their bending, but this…

It sounds almost like shame.

Faraday isn’t looking at any of them, keeping his eyes carefully downwards. “Yeah, I lied to you,” he says. “Just like I’ve been lying to people since I was a kid, because as soon as they know you’re a firebender, they stop seeing you as a person.”

Vasquez has never met a child firebender. Logically, he always knew they existed, because bending starts at an early age, but he’s never really actively thought about them. Growing up, he was always encouraged to use his bending, praised for it.

He can’t imagine being shunned for it.

Faraday keeps talking, that vulnerability still in his voice. “I lied to you because I was stupid enough to think that maybe I had a shot here. That maybe this was my chance to prove I’m not just a monster. Maybe even that I’d found people who’d be willing to ignore what I am, because they’ve gotten to know me and trust me. But I guess all that’s off the table now.”

The room is dead silent, and the shaky breaths that Faraday takes are audible. And then he says something Vasquez never would have expected to hear from any firebender. “I still aim to fight tomorrow. I want to help these people as much as you do. I know it’s not gonna change anything, and I know if I live through this, you’re all gonna go on hating me as much as you do right now.”

What he says next makes Vasquez feel like he’s been punched in the gut.

“But trust me. None of you is ever gonna hate me as much as I do.”

Before anyone can say anything, before Vasquez can even fully process those words, Faraday turns and walks out.

* * *

Sam excuses himself fairly soon after that, and Emma and Teddy come in a few minute after he leaves. Vasquez hears the others tell them what happened, but he ignores them, preferring to focus on drinking as much as he possibly can in the hopes it will calm the discord in his head.

He’s spent the past twenty-five years of his life hating everything that firebenders are, living every day with the conviction that all of them are selfish, malicious beasts who are as capable of being decent humans as they are of bending water, because every firebender he’s ever met has been exactly like that, every one.

Except Faraday.

There’s an ache in Vasquez’s chest when he remembers the fragility in Faraday’s voice when he said he hated himself. When he said he’d known he was a monster since he was eight. When he said all he had wanted from them was trust and friendship, wanted those things badly enough deny a part of himself that Vasquez could never imagine denying.

_He still lied to you,_ a hateful voice at the back of his head whispers.

Vasquez is used to having people not trust him, but he had thought Faraday was different. He’d trusted Vasquez with his _life_ that first day, why not with this?

He’s not sure how long he stands there, drinking, half-listening to the others talking, but he looks up when he hears Sam cough. The earthbender is looking more solemn and stern than Vasquez can remember ever seeing him, which is saying something.

“We need to talk.”

“Is it true?” Emma asks. “Mr. Faraday, is he really…?”

“A firebender? Yes.” Sam folds his arms. “I’ve spoken to him, now I want to speak to the rest of you, because this is something that needs to be addressed.”  
  
“Did you ask him to leave?”  
  
“I saw no reason to.”

“No reason?” Vasquez finally speaks up, the alcohol making that voice at the back of his head bolder. “He’s a firebender, how do we even know we can trust him?” He hates himself for asking it but asks it anyway, because nothing can change the fact that Faraday lied to him.

“Because he’s never given us a reason not to,” Sam says.

“He lied to us, Sam,” Billy points out. “He lied to _you_.”

“Can any of you blame him?” The glare Sam casts around the room makes Vasquez shrink a little. “Did any one of us give him any cause to feel safe sharing that with us? That night in the canyon, Vasquez, you said the only good firebender was a dead one, and not one of us disagreed with you. What would you have done in his place, if you knew the men around you felt that way?

He’d almost forgotten about that night. About how evident he’d made his hatred. About the way Faraday had been so quick to _agree_ with him...almost like he felt the same way.

_Fuck_.

“That man has never said or done a single thing against us. He’s fought with us, _for_ us. Laughed, shared drinks with us. Before tonight all of you would have called him your friend. And he has done all of that knowing, the entire time, that the only reason none of us hated him was because he kept that part of himself a secret.”

Every word out of Sam’s mouth is like another kick to the gut, because Vasquez can’t argue with any of it, at all.

“Now I don’t know about any of you, but I can’t imagine being able to do that. To get to the point where pretending my bending didn’t exist seemed like the best option, to get to the point where I was so ashamed of it I couldn’t even admit it to the men I had trusted enough to keep me alive in a firefight. Could you do that with your bending, Billy? Horne? Vasquez, could you do that?”

“That’s not the same,” Vasquez says, with much less conviction than he wants to.

“Like hell it ain’t! Yeah, firebenders are the ones with the reputation for being awful, but that reputation could just as easily have gone to earthbenders, or water, or air. Would any of you want people to judge you just based on your element like that? Just assume you were a monster because of something you couldn’t even help?”

“Maybe firebenders have that reputation for a reason!” Despite all of this, despite the guilt gnawing at his stomach, Vasquez can’t just erase so many years of animosity, not after that night in his village.

“And Faraday? Has he done anything to earn it?” The glare Sam gives him is borderline terrifying. “Our first day here, he hadn’t known you a week and he still covered you. He already knew you hated his kind and he still did everything he could to keep you alive. He’s helped this town get ready for war, he stayed even when Goody didn’t. And he’s still willing to fight alongside us knowing how we all feel, and we’re still debating whether or not we can trust him?”

And then Sam drives the final point home, saying, “There might be monsters here tonight, but Faraday isn’t one of them.”

Vasquez can’t look at Sam anymore. Can’t look at any of them. He clutches his half-empty glass of whiskey so tightly his knuckles turn white and listens as Sam continues, “I know I can’t change your opinions for you, no matter how much I talk. But I will say this: keep them to yourselves. I told Faraday this and now I’m telling you, if any of you have a problem with him? Then you’ve got a problem with me.”

Funny thing is, Vasquez knows for a fact that Sam’s words have changed the opinion of at least one person in the room. Or at least helped speed the process along.

Sam turns to leave, stopping in the doorway just long enough to say, “If we all live through this, we are going to owe that man a very, _very_ big apology.”

That makes Vasquez realize that Faraday is somewhere in town still believing that they all hate him. That Vasquez hates him.

That Vasquez still believes the only good firebender is a dead one.

He starts away from the bar, his only conscious goal finding Faraday and apologizing, but Horne stops him with a quiet, “Not tonight, son. I think he needs to be alone tonight.”

“And if one of us dies tomorrow before we can make things right?” Vasquez feels vaguely sickened by the idea, the idea of dying before he can fix this.

Horne just shrugs. “Then that’s part of the good Lord’s plan for all of us. If you want to go, I can’t stop you. But I can’t imagine Faraday is in the mood for visitors right now, can you?”

Vasquez can’t.

Especially if the visitor is him.

* * *

He pauses outside Faraday’s door, even raises his hand to knock, before moving on to his own room. Faraday deserves space right now and Vasquez will give him all he needs.

Back in his room, Vasquez goes to the desk and digs out a pen and a sheet of paper, because he knows he might very well die before he gets the chance to apologize, and his conscience won’t allow that.

He takes a deep breath and begins to write.

_If you’re reading this, it means I died before I was able to tell you how sorry I was. I wish I could have apologized to you in person - you deserve nothing less - but fate had other ideas._

_I’m sorry, Faraday. For everything. For making you feel less than human. For making you afraid to show that part of yourself to me, to us. For blaming you for it when I found out._

_I don’t have a good history with firebenders. I have never met one I got along with. I suppose I just...assumed they were all the same. Which wasn’t fair to anybody - least of all you._

_You aren’t a monster, Faraday. You’re a good man. One I count myself lucky to have met. I’m sorry your last memories of me will be ones of anger, because I’m not angry with you, not anymore. Angry with myself, yes, but not you._

_You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. And I wish you had become more than that. I wish I’d had more time with you. Wish I hadn’t fucked everything up the way I did._

_I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I’m sorry. So sorry. I want you to know that._

_Eduardo Vasquez_

Vasquez folds the letter, carefully prints the name “Faraday” on the front, and leaves it there. He knows Faraday will be there to read it - his promise to himself, the one to keep Faraday alive, still stands. More so than ever now.

He might die tomorrow, he might never get the chance to apologize in person, but at least Faraday will still know just how sorry he was.

* * *

In the morning, he sees Faraday from across the street, heading out towards the position Sam assigned him. He looks tired and haggard and Vasquez feels the guilt in his chest intensify. He almost calls out, but there’s a battle to be fought right now, and that’s what he needs to focus on.

He just hopes he gets the chance to talk to Faraday after all this is over.

When the fight starts, at first all he can do is stand there in the church, waiting for Bogue’s men to come closer. He hates it, the waiting, especially since he knows Faraday is farther out, by himself. But Sam placed them all very carefully and Vasquez isn’t going to fuck that up, so he stands and waits and hopes Faraday exercises a little more self-preservation than he usually does.

A few seconds later Vasquez catches a glimpse of Faraday running through the open with a couple of mounted Blackstones practically at his heels and wonders how the hell the man has survived this long.

He sees more coming Faraday’s way and starts firing, smirking when they hit the ground.

He grins when he sees the shack explode, remembering the whiskey bottle Faraday had placed there so carefully. He was right in his assessment - Faraday is definitely smarter than he looks.

Hopefully Vasquez will get the chance to tell him that, too.

* * *

The gunfire gets heavy, and Vasquez shouts for Faraday and Billy to get everyone to the church, lapsing into his nickname for Faraday without even thinking about it. A moment later, Vasquez sees a Blackstone hurl a fireball towards the steeple, and suddenly he’s back in his village again, watching the burning church collapse on his mother and brother, the firebenders refusing to help-

And then he sees Faraday stop and bring his arms up in a shoving motion, and the fireball goes hurtling back towards the Blackstone who created it.

Vasquez had already known he’d been wrong about Faraday, but until this moment he hadn’t realized _how_ wrong.

Before he can react, there’s the sound of a shot nearby and Faraday goes down, clutching his side.

Vasquez sees red.

He marches out of the church, past Faraday, who is still on his feet and moving, and pulls as much water as he can into two whips before setting on the bastard who shot his friend, shouting words in his native tongue that would make his mother faint if she heard them. The first blow is probably enough to kill the man, but Vasquez isn’t satisfied with that, this son-of-a-bitch shot Faraday - Faraday, who is his best friend, one of the best men he’s ever met, who put himself on the line in order to save everyone in the church, who still doesn’t know how fucking _sorry_ Vasquez is…

He’s brutal and unforgiving in those few seconds, hitting every spot he knows will cause the most damage, the most pain, and he should feel guilty about it, but he doesn’t.

Only when he breaks the bastard’s neck does he stop.

He’s terrified of the response he’ll get when he shouts, “Are you okay, _güero?_ ” because Faraday had been moving, but that doesn’t mean anything, he could still be-

“So far, so good!”

Suddenly Vasquez can breathe again.

* * *

Faraday is still clutching his side, but he lets go when they leave the church, raising his hands and pulling a long stream of fire from the burning wagons before sending it into the Blackstones. Vasquez can only catch glimpses of his face, he’s so focused on his own bending, but when he does look over the expression of determination and intensity on Faraday’s face is magnificent.

He never, not in a million years, ever thought he would say this to a firebender, but he can’t help it, he yells, “Keep bending, _güerito!”_ and means it with every inch of his being.

* * *

He screams when the bullet hits his arm; it’s not the first time he’s been shot and he knows he’ll be able to heal it, but _fuck_ if it doesn’t hurt like hell. He rolls over and curls up on his side and makes eye contact with Faraday, who is reloading and whose left hand is covered in blood.

Briefly, Vasquez wonders if they’ll both die there together, and he’s not even surprised when he finds he wouldn’t mind that.

Then the Gatling gun stops and he hears the children screaming from the cellar, and even though Goodnight is shouting for everyone to stay down, shouting that they’re reloading, Faraday only hesitates for a moment before running outside, making a beeline for the store before Vasquez can even get to his feet.

He sees Faraday extinguish the fire in the front of the building while shouting for Sam to get the others out, and prays that he gets the chance to make up for how wrong he was.

* * *

Vasquez doesn’t piece together what Faraday’s plan is until he sees the firebender riding out across the field, five or six Blackstones on his tail, and it feels like his chest seizes up, because there are too many guns out there, and if the Gatling starts up again it will tear Faraday apart, this isn’t supposed to be happening…

Goodnight and Billy clear out the last of the riders just in time for the Gatling to start firing once more, and Vasquez hears shouts coming from the steeple, then a crashing noise, and he prays the men up there are all right. Faraday is still moving, and for a second Vasquez lets himself hope he has a chance-

Then the row of Blackstones filed out next to the Gatling are all shooting at him and Vasquez sees Faraday jerk from the impact of multiple hits before finally toppling off his horse.

No. No no no no this is wrong, this isn’t how it was supposed to happen, Faraday is supposed to _live_ , dammit!

Vasquez thinks he might throw up.

He barely has time to start grieving before he sees Faraday, stubborn son-of-a-bitch that he is, stagger to his feet and keep moving towards the Gatling.

Someone grabs Vasquez as he tries to run out, holding him back, and he flails against their grip and curses at them in Spanish and English, because Faraday is still alive, he can still save him, if the idiot would only let _go…_

One of the Blackstones shoots Faraday from only a few feet away, sending him to the ground again.

Vasquez imagines wringing the man’s neck. He imagines killing the man as slowly and painfully as he possibly can, using every horrible method he can think of.

And yet Faraday, miraculously, is still moving, pushing himself to his knees. Vasquez watches on of the Blackstones come towards him and pulls harder against the hands holding him, even though the rational part of his brain knows he’d never get there in time.

Before the Blackstone can shoot, Faraday slumps forward, and Vasquez isn’t sure if he wants to yell or cry.

A moment later Faraday is up again, throwing something at the wagon.

And then everything explodes in a shower of smoke and shrapnel.

Vasquez stops struggling.

He stops feeling, too.

* * *

As soon as the hands on him are gone, he takes off; the others can handle whatever men are left. He knows he won’t like what he finds when he gets out there but dammit he’s not going to leave Faraday to rot in that field, not after everything the man did, after everything he went through for them.

He grabs the first horse he finds and spurs it into a gallop, taking the same route Faraday did on his run, and he can only imagine what was going through the firebender’s mind. Faraday had to know he wasn’t coming back, but he did it anyway.

Vasquez has never met a better man.

The ride feels like an eternity, and Vasquez dismounts before the horse has barely slowed to a canter, frantically looking around for Faraday, knowing it will be the most painful thing he’s experienced in a long time. He thinks about that conversation with the little boy again.

_That’s why I’ve never had anything_.

He had thought that had finally changed.

When he finally finds Faraday, half buried under a pile of smoldering wood, Vasquez has to bite back a sob. The man looks like hell, covered in blood, his torso a mess of bullet and shrapnel wounds, and it’s like Vasquez can feel every single one of those wounds on his own body. He wishes they _were_ on his body, he’s the one who should be dead in this field, not Faraday.

He falls to his knees, shoving the wood aside, and reaches to stroke Faraday’s cheek with his thumb.

That’s when he feels it. Just the tiniest breath of air against his wrist.

He moves his fingers to Faraday’s neck with a shaking hand, holding his breath, praying like hell he’s not imagining it.

There’s a pulse. Weak, thready, barely there, but a pulse.

Faraday’s still alive.

Vasquez’s exhale sounds more like a sob, but he doesn’t care, Faraday might be alive but he’s by no means safe, not with this much damage. Vasquez won’t even be able to get him to a doctor like this.

He looks at his hands.

His mother always told him waterbenders couldn’t heal any fatal injuries.

Vasquez looks at Faraday’s face again.

Yeah, fuck that.

He pulls as much moisture from the grass around them as he can, channeling it and moving his hands gently along Faraday’s body. At some point he’d started muttering to himself in Spanish, he’s not even sure what he’s saying, but he hopes that Faraday can hear it.

“Don’t you fucking die on me, _güerito_ ,” he whispers fiercely.

For a moment, he swears he sees the corner of Faraday’s mouth twitch up.

* * *

He ignores the stares he get when he rides back into town, shouting for the doctor. He knows how it must look, Faraday slumped over in front of him, covered in blood, with him yelling like a madman, but he doesn’t care. He can barely even think straight right now - he even takes a half-hearted swing at the person who steps up and tries to help him lift Faraday off the horse before realizing it’s only Sam.

“He alive?” Sam asks, sounding slightly incredulous.

“Barely.” Faraday is lighter in Vasquez’s arms than he would have expected. “Where’s the doctor?”

Sam is quick to lead him to the infirmary, presumably sensing his panic, and Vasquez gently lays Faraday on the nearest available cot, pausing to run his hands over the wounds again. When the doctor appears, Vasquez doesn’t bother disguising the desperation in his voice. “Help him.”

The doctor eyes the wounds on Faraday’s chest. Vasquez can see the man debating whether or not it’s even worth trying, and he growls this time. “ _Help him_.”

“Sir, I don’t know how much I can do…”

“I’m a healer. I’ll help you.” Vasquez glances quickly at Sam. “Get me some water.”

Sam looks from him to Faraday and back to him again before nodding once and disappearing, coming back quickly with a bucket of water from one of the rain barrels just as the doctor finishes cutting away the remains of Faraday’s shirt.

Seeing the full extent of the damage makes Vasquez’s stomach threaten to rebel, but he ignores it.

This is more important.

* * *

Vasquez and the doctor work for three hours, doing their best to piece Faraday back together, and Vasquez knows he’s going to have nightmares about this, about being almost elbow-deep in Faraday’s blood, for a long time to come.

When the doctor finally pulls back, Vasquez holds his breath, prays for good news. “We’ve done all we can do,” the man says. “He’s as stable as I can make him. The rest is up to him now.” He looks at Vasquez, at the blood on his hands and the bags under his eyes. “I suggest you clean up and get some rest, son.”

To his credit, Vasquez listens to half that advice - mostly because he can’t stand having Faraday’s blood on him another instant. He washes up in what’s left of the water and sinks down on the stool Sam must have placed beside the bed at some point.

He glances around to see if anyone is watching before deciding fuck it and taking Faraday’s hand in both of his own. The skin is warm beneath his fingers and he hopes to God it will stay that way.

“Listen, you stubborn _hijo de puta_ ,” he murmurs, leaning his head forward. “You’re not allowed to let this beat you, understand? Or I will find a way to kill you again myself.”

Vasquez glances around again before pressing the lightest of kisses to Faraday’s knuckles and whispering, “And I still need to tell you I’m sorry.”

At some point, he must fall asleep, because he drifts back into consciousness with his head resting on the mattress next to Faraday’s hip, Faraday’s hand still in his own.

He doesn’t open his eyes right away, preferring to just sit there and feel Faraday’s pulse under his fingertips, but then he feels it, just the slightest pressure on his hand, and he jerks awake just in time to see the firebender’s eyes close, the tiniest of smiles on his face.

Vasquez grins so hard he thinks his face might burst and presses Faraday’s hand to his forehead. “ _Lo sabía._ If anyone is lucky enough to cheat death, it’s you, _cabrón_.”

* * *

He loses track of the time after that. It’s not until Sam comes in and informs him he’s been at Faraday’s beside for almost three days that Vasquez realizes how fucking tired he is - he’s slept, here and there, and he’s picked at whatever food Sam or Red leaves for him, but that’s it.

“He’s gonna be fine, Vasquez,” Sam reminds him. “You can let yourself get some rest.”

“I’ve slept some.” Vasquez has no intentions of moving until Faraday opens his eyes again. “I’m fine here.”

“Clearly you haven’t looked in a mirror lately.” Sam pulls up a stool beside him. “I’ll sit with him a while.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

Sam sighs. “I was afraid you’d be like this. Red is waiting outside - if I have to I _will_ tell him to pick you up and carry you over to the hotel.”

Vasquez narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Red?”

A moment later Vasquez is being dragged to his feet, and he can tell right away that Red Harvest’s grip isn’t one he’ll be able to break. He glares at Sam, who has the audacity to look amused, and lets loose a tirade of curses and threats in Spanish as Red starts to pull him towards the door.

“Threats don’t work on me, _amigo_. Now go get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on your boy here.”

“He’s not my-” Vasquez is cut off as the door swings shut and Red manhandles him away from the infirmary. About halfway between there and the hotel he figures it’s no use fighting and grumbles, “All right, all right, I’m going, you can let go of me.”

Red eyes him suspiciously, like he’s expecting Vasquez to bolt the second he loosens his hold. But Vasquez shakes his head - he’s finally realizing how fucking tired he is.

He’ll let himself sleep for a little while. Just a little while.

When he gets to his room, he’s unconscious before his head even hits the pillow.

* * *

He sleeps for almost an entire day and thoroughly cusses Sam out when he wakes up. He cusses the earthbender out _again -_ quietly, this time - when he returns to the infirmary and is informed that Faraday was awake and talking not too long ago.

Sam, naturally, looks as passive as ever. “For your information, I sent Teddy to wake you up, but you were sleeping like the dead,” he says once Vasquez pauses for breath.

Vasquez glares at him. “You should have sent Red.”

“You obviously needed the rest.”

Vasquez doesn’t even respond to that, mostly because he can’t argue with it. He just glares at Sam, who graciously moves to the stool closer to the foot of the bed so Vasquez can resume his vigil. “He asked about you.”

Vasquez blinks in surprise. “What?”

“I told him you saved his life. He was a mite confused about it, but I think he took it well.”

“I don’t blame him for being confused.” Vasquez clenches his jaw, remembering that night in the saloon. “The last time we spoke…”

Sam places a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think there’s gonna be any bad blood there. He was happy to hear everyone else made it. Didn’t really sound like he was planning on holding a grudge.”

“He should.”

“Yeah, well, when has Faraday ever done what he’s _supposed_ to do?” and Vasquez can’t help smiling at that just a little.

He smiles even more when he hears another voice, rough from disuse, mutter, “Damn it, an injured man can’t even sleep around here with all that noise.”

Vasquez chuckles, getting to his feet and leaning over so that his face is directly above Faraday’s. “You’ve slept more than enough, _güero_ ,” he says softly. “You going to open your eyes for me now?”

Faraday looks like he’s considering ignoring the request, which isn’t surprising, before complying. His eyes are a little glassed over, but he looks alert, which is good, and somewhat belligerent, which is even better.

“You look like shit,” he says after staring at Vasquez for a long time, and the waterbender grins, ignoring the way the concerned undertone in Faraday’s voice makes his chest hurt.

“You should take a look in the mirror, then,” Vasquez replies.

Faraday seems to think about a reply before he stiffens slightly, and Vasquez’s brow furrows. He watches the way Faraday suddenly avoids his eyes, looking instead to Sam, and it occurs to him only now that the firebender might not want to see him.

The thought making him feel nauseated, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Faraday has more than enough reason to want him to leave, and if he asks, Vasquez will go.

As if things aren’t awkward enough, Sam gets to his feet and says, “Well, I need to go look in on Billy and Goody. I’ll be back to check in on our Joshua again a little later.”

Vasquez watches Sam leave.

It’s easier than looking at the dislike that’s undoubtedly on Faraday’s face right now.

Still, as soon as Faraday starts talking again, Vasquez can’t help but turn back to him. “So.” The other man’s voice is hesitant, and Vasquez braces himself for whatever is coming. “I do believe I owe you an apology.”

And that is the absolute last thing Vasquez expected to hear.

He can’t even reply, he’s at such a loss. An apology for what? For almost dying? For scaring the hell out of him, for giving Vasquez memories that are going to haunt him for months after this?

His confusion must show on his face, because Faraday continues, “For lying. For not telling you all what I was. I didn’t like doing it but...I still did it.” He looks Vasquez square in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

The words slowly start to process in Vasquez’s mind. And the more they do, the more horrified he is, because this isn’t right, Faraday shouldn’t be saying sorry for this, he shouldn’t feel guilty for Vasquez’s stupidity, for having to feel like he couldn’t trust any of them with this part of him.

“You...have done absolutely _nothing_ to apologize for,” he says carefully. “At all.”

Faraday arches an eyebrow. “Did I mention the whole lying thing? Because that wasn’t-”

Vasquez cuts him off, because he can’t stand hearing this, can’t let Faraday think for one more second that he’s the one in the wrong here. “I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

Faraday blinks, squinting at him. “The hell are you talking about? You didn’t do anything-”

“Didn’t I?” Vasquez clenches his jaw, remembering how he’d acted that night. Remembering the look on Faraday’s face in the stables. Remembering the way Faraday had agreed with him, that night in the canyon.

Faraday deserves a bigger apology than he can ever give him.

“I made you feel like you were something less than human. I made you afraid to even admit a part of yourself existed. And I even _blamed_ you for it when I found out. You don’t think that deserves an apology?”

“Not...really? I mean, it’s normal. Feeling that way about people like me.”

“That doesn’t make it _right_ ,” Vasquez says, louder than he means to. He’d had his apology planned out, had gone over it a thousand times in his head while waiting for Faraday to wake up, but now, with Faraday staring at him and acting like Vasquez hasn’t done anything wrong, all that goes out the window and he just starts saying whatever comes into his mind first.

“White men have been treating me as an inferior my entire life, because of where I come from.” Vasquez isn’t entirely sure where he’s even going with this. “They take one look at me and just assume I’m less of a man than they are. I’ve always _hated_ it.” He swallows the lump building in his throat. “I didn’t realize until recently that I have been just as narrow-minded as them.”

“That’s not the same thing - being Mexican doesn’t make you more likely to be a terrible-”

“Neither does being a firebender. Which is something I should have learned a long, long time ago.”

Vasquez has had a lot of time to think about this. Has been thinking about it since the fight, when Faraday used his bending to protect the people in the church. Hell, he’s been thinking about it since he realized what Faraday denying that part of himself truly meant.

“Yes, the firebenders I knew in my village may have been terrible, but they were just two men. And yet I let myself believe all of you were like those two. Not even for a moment did I stop to wonder if they were simply bad men instead of bad benders.” He runs a hand wearily over his face, remembering all the years he spent hating and the disgust it had made him unwillingly feel that night. “And then when I found out you were one…”

Faraday winces, looking like he’s about to say sorry again, but Vasquez doesn’t let him. “I was angry, yes. And confused. I had fought by your side, I knew you were a good man, and I didn’t see how you could also be like them.” He shakes his head. “And I realized that was because you _weren’t_ like them.”

“Yeah, because I didn’t bend.”

Faraday is missing the point and Vasquez isn’t going to let go of this until he understands. “No, because you’re a good man,” he says firmly. “A man who was so determined not to be the monster everyone believed him to be that he was willing to deny part of who he was. Willing to pretend the gifts he was given didn’t exist, because he was afraid they would only hurt people. If all firebenders truly were monsters, how could such a man exist?”

He can still see the self-loathing that had been on Faraday’s face.

He never, _ever_ wants to see him look that way again.

“The day of the fight, I saw you using those gifts to protect, not to destroy, and I finally realized that your element isn’t what makes you a monster or not, it’s how you choose to use it.” He brushes his fingers against Faraday’s, capturing the man’s gaze before saying, “That day, I was proud to fight at the side of a firebender. And I was ashamed of how unfair I had been, to you and to all men like you. And all I could think was that I might never get the chance to tell you, ‘I’m sorry.’”

It’s not enough, not even close, but it’s a start.

Faraday appears to consider that for a moment. “That why you saved me life?” he asks after a while. “Because you felt guilty?”

Vasquez could lie and say yes. He could say that was the only reason. Or he could spin a half-truth, say it was because he considers Faraday a friend, nothing more. But Faraday deserves honesty from him, even if it makes things awkward between them.

So he leans forward until his face is only inches from Faraday’s and says softly, “ _Güerito_ , I saved your life because letting you die would have been like tearing my own heart from my chest.”

Waiting for Faraday’s response is agonizing, but Vasquez doesn’t push, vowing to go along with whatever Faraday says, even if it’s asking him to leave.

When Faraday’s hand comes around the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss, Vasquez is pretty sure he’s died and gone to Heaven.

It’s gentle, hesitant. Vasquez cups Faraday’s face between his hands, stroking his thumbs along his cheekbones, and feels Faraday lean into the touch.

After a few moments Vasquez pulls away, but he can’t bring himself to go far and presses his forehead to Faraday’s with a small smile on his face. He thinks he knows what the answer will be, but he has to be sure. “Do this mean my apology is accepted, _güerito?_ ”

He half-expects the answer to be no - part of him thinks it _should_ be no - but Faraday just smirks and says, “‘Course is it, you goddamn Mexican. Now are you gonna shut up and kiss me again or do I need to come over there?”

Vasquez feels like he’s finally able to breathe properly again. He can’t refuse Faraday this, can rarely refuse him anything, so he leans in again. He feels Faraday smile against his mouth, then nip at his bottom lip, and Vasquez makes a not-quite-growl at the back of his throat, pressing in just a little harder.

Suddenly there’s a cough from the doorway, and they jerk apart. Vasquez feels a moment of panic before realizing it’s just Billy, Goodnight, and Horne. He exhales in relief, his hand moving almost habitually to Faraday’s hair, stroking it lightly as Faraday says, “Anyone ever tell you it’s polite to knock?”

“We just wanted to see how our favorite firebender is doing.”

Vasquez feels Faraday stiffen beneath his touch and glares at the others for making him uncomfortable. Billy swats at Goodnight and says, “He means we’re here to apologize.”

“That seems to be an ongoing trend with you people. I hope you don’t expect me to kiss you, too.”

Vasquez can’t help muttering, “They’d better not,” into his ear, and he smirks as Faraday grins.

He hears Goodnight and Horne laugh. “I believe we’d all rather do without that particular gesture of good will. No offense, Faraday.”

“None taken.”

“But we do want to say we’re sorry,” Horne says. “We judged something we had no right to judge. And we respect you as much as we ever did, son.”

“We consider it an honor to have fought alongside a firebender such as yourself. We only hope you can forgive us for being so short-sighted.”

Billy’s closing comment of, “We’re sorry,” would sound unfeeling coming from anyone else, but from him it’s surprisingly heartfelt.

The surprise on Faraday’s face makes Vasquez’s heart hurt - he shouldn’t be surprised by this, he should expect it - but he doesn’t say anything. He eases up a little when Faraday rolls his eyes and says, “Of course I forgive you. Now stop staring at me like I’m about to order your executions or something, you’re giving me the creeps.”

The slight tension that’s built up in the room slowly ebbs away, and Vasquez feels Faraday stifle a yawn. He sends the others a stony look. “All right, you apologized, now he needs sleep,” he says sharply. “And knock next time.”

“Trust me, we will. Nobody wants to see that again.”

Vasquez glares at Billy until the door closes behind him, but the hard look on his face softens when Faraday leans his head against his shoulder. “You gonna mother hen me all throughout my recovery?”

“Perhaps.” Vasquez can’t resist turning to press a kiss to his forehead. “You have any strong objections to that, _güerito?_ ”

Faraday smirks. “Can’t say I do.”

That’s good, because Vasquez has every intention of “mother henning” him for the rest of his life. He’s fairly certain it’s been a long, long time since anyone has done that for Faraday, and he wants to start making up for that. And for other things.

Faraday fights back another yawn, and Vasquez clicks his tongue. “Now go to sleep, you still need it.”

“Been sleeping for four days, dammit,” is the reply he gets, because Faraday apparently can’t do _anything_ without being contrary.

“Yes, after you almost died.” Vasquez suppresses a shiver at the memory of seeing the explosion, of finding Faraday in the field looking like a corpse. He brushes his thumb across the other man’s jaw, savoring the thrum of his pulse, and asks, “Please?”

Faraday gives him an irritated look that Vasquez knows means he’s about to give in. “On one condition.”

“Name it.” Vasquez is honestly willing to do anything Faraday asks of him at this point, and maybe that’s pathetic, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He’s only somewhat surprised when Faraday grins and moves over, patting the mattress. “From what I hear, you could use some rest yourself.”

Vasquez is pretty sure his face is a tableau of utterly ridiculous affection right now, if the way Faraday is smiling at him is anything to go by. “I think that’s an acceptable compromise,” he says before sliding onto the bed. He wraps a careful arm around Faraday’s waist, making sure he avoids touching any of his injuries, and he feels like his heart might burst when Faraday curls into him, resting his head on his chest and actually sighing in contentment. For him to feel this comfortable, this safe, with Vasquez after everything that happened…

Vasquez is a damn lucky man.

He moves his hand back to Faraday’s hair, letting himself become drowsy, and he thinks the firebender has fallen asleep when he hears, “I still killed more of them than you did, y’know.”

Vasquez chuckles, tugging at a lock of his hair. “Well, maybe once you’re feeling better we can try to tie it up, can’t we?”

They both know what he’s really talking about. Faraday’s voice is playful as he asks, “Couldn’t we do that right now?”

It’s tempting, but Vasquez has no intentions of letting Faraday do anything strenuous for at least another week. Probably two. “No. Now sleep, _güerito._ ”

He listens to Faraday’s breathing even out and smiles softly, kissing the top of his head. There’s still the tiniest ball of guilt, like a lead weight in his stomach, that he knows will be there for a long time, possibly forever, and rightly so.

But for now he ignores it. For now, he lets himself fall asleep with Faraday pulled against him.

For now, he’s content.


End file.
